The Long Night, 1491: The Year of the Scarlet Witch

It has been a tenday and a half since my last journal entry, I’ve been very busy.

Praise Beshaba! I have finished consecrating The Doom Grotto: the Maid of Misfortune’s new temple in Phandalin. Lady Doom’s followers prefer to keep a low profile, but as a rule of thumb, if Tymora can be found in the area, then Beshaba goes hand in hand.

Indeed, one such clandestine follower, the widow Mirna Dendrar, approached me a week ago, asking for some mundane advice on how to restore her moontime. I made her a tea of worm fern root and crushed ants; also, I suggested she crouch over a cauldron of stewing onions for an hour if she was still having problems.

Since then, I have convinced Mirna to join Beshaba’s holy sisterhood as a Bewildered novice. The widow Dendrar’s family is utterly destitute so I have also offered to take on Mirna’s children, Nilsa and Nars, as servants once Black Hawk Manor is rebuilt. Our resident goblins, Droop and Yegg, should remain prudently confined to the kitchen and cellar. The other cunts may be pleased with the new additions to our household staff: Nilsa’s a comely country lass, while Nars is sinewy and docile, if catamite fare is more to their taste.

But I digress…

Atop Beshaba’s newly blessed altar table, the golden censer, knife, and chalice, which I looted from Cragmaw Castle, now lay alongside Beshaba’s emblematic ritual black antlers. Within the form of the bronze table itself, Dwarven artisans have immortalized Trent the nothic: the pedestal is sculpted in his fearsome likeness, with one special detail, inspired by the boobytrapped statue of Dumathoin in Wave Echo Cave. The green eye of the statue is a trapped fake jewel: a delicate glass bubble filled with my own noxious Poison Spray exhalations!

My fellow cunts have been coy about sharing their Midsummer plans: no matter. This evening, I shall celebrate the Long Night as befits a mystic daughter of Lady Doom. Step one in my plan: Magically Disguise Self as Sister Garaele, the local Tymoran elf cleric.

Step two: Some random harassment of local townsfolk as I stroll through Phandalin, on my way to desecrate the pathetic pile of rubble that passes for a shrine to Lady Luck!

Step three: Poison Spray a few of Daran Edermath’s beloved fruit trees… Oh no, bad luck for this year’s harvest, oops! Perhaps Edermath will repent his folly, and seek Beshaba’s forgiveness, if he knows what’s good for him.

Step Four: Leave Iarno Albreck’s rotten, smashed skull in Sildar Hallwinter’s bedchamber, on his pillow, as a grisly gift. I hope Hallwinter will be happy to see his old friend!

Of course, I shall use stealth, and my lock picks if needed. Also, I will be sure to have my Command and Charm Person spells ready, as a precaution, in case anyone gets too close to discovering me. And I shall prepare spells of Darkness, Invisibility, and Misty Step, using them only if necessary.

After all that, I shall return to The Doom Grotto to await pleas and petitions from penitent parishioners, in Beshaba’s name, klaatu barada nikto amen.

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